


Snow

by blue_wind_gets_so_sad



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Angst, Gen, Light Swearing, Mentions of War, Non-Descriptive PTSD, a tiny bit of character background stories, if that makes sense, it hurt my heart to type all of this, someone please tell me if i got anything wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_wind_gets_so_sad/pseuds/blue_wind_gets_so_sad
Summary: "It wasn’t that cold anymore. Or maybe he was just too numb to feel it. Either way, Johnny didn’t know where in the hell he was. Correction: he knew he was in an alley. He didn’t know which alley, but he was in one. How did he get there? He didn’t know that either. He remembered touching the snow. That was it. The snow. How did he get from the sidewalk to an alley by touching snow? And why was he asleep? Was he asleep? Had he just been sitting there and he had forgotten? The snow. There was something about the snow."Alternatively: A glimpse at what Johnny knows and what he remembers (or doesn't).





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings: Light swearing, PTSD, mentions of war. (Please tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

             Johnny knew that he crashed his Jeep. He knew that he flipped three times and had three operations on his back. The thing is, he  _ knew _ all of that, but he couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t remember how he crashed it, he couldn’t remember the flipping, and he couldn’t remember the operations. He just knew what he was told. He liked that he couldn’t remember it, but he hated it at the same time. However, sometimes certain things would trigger memories. It was never a full memory, though. It was always just...bits and pieces. He tried to remember the pieces in order to try and put them together one day, but he always forgot them. The sound of broken glass would cause a flicker of a memory. A sudden stop. Sometimes even sitting in a vehicle could cause a flicker. Although, what happened that day had never happened before.

             It was a practice day. Johnny knew that. Even so, he wrote himself a reminder and stuck it to his front door just in case. Once it was close to time, he grabbed his coat (which already had drumsticks shoved in the pockets), slipped it on, and walked out of the door. He immediately regretted it. The freezing temperature outside made him want to go back inside and give a good old Davy Zlatic-style middle finger to the clouds, but he had a responsibility. He flipped his hood over his head and set off toward the practice space. He had a vehicle, of course, but it was so close he figured he'd just walk. (Which he decided was the worst decision of his life after a few minutes exposed to the wind.)

             Other than the ridiculous temperature, it was a nice day. It was calm and quiet. The streets weren’t too busy, but they weren’t barren. It had occurred to him then that they were practicing in the daytime because it would be colder at night. That should’ve clued him in. He looked down and saw the snow collecting beneath his feet and stopped walking. Despite his lack of gloves, he reached down and touched the snow. 

 

* * *

 

             “Has anyone seen Davy and Johnny?” Donny questioned as the others passed the time by practicing in their own corners of the room. 

             Whereas the others shook their heads, Julia replied, “Davy said he was going to make sure Johnny was coming.”

             “It’s been twenty minutes exactly. They should’ve been here by now.” Wayne commented.

             “He’s right. Johnny only lives a few minutes away. Unless they decided to go somewhere else before coming here, which is unlikely, they should’ve been here approximately...twelve minutes ago?” Jimmy added.

             “Twelve and a half.” Wayne corrected.

             “Do specifics really matter? The issue is that they’re  _ both _ gone and  _ this _ doesn’t work unless everyone’s here.” Nick gestured to everyone in the room when he said “this.”

             “We could send someone else out there,” Donny suggested.

             “In that weather? You’re insane.” Nick scoffed.

             Suddenly, the sound of panting shook them from their short-lived argument. They all looked up and saw Davy leaning against the doorframe trying to catch his breath.

             “Davy? Where’s-” Julia began.

             “Can’t find him. Not at home. His car is still there.”

             Jimmy was the first one to grab his coat and leave the building, followed by Julia, Donny, and Wayne.

             “He’s a grown ass man, Davy. He doesn’t need us-” Nick started.

             Davy stood up straight and sent Nick an unusually cool gaze. “He wrote himself a note. He’d never skip out without telling someone.” He then raised his eyebrows as if to say, “ _ Do you get it now? _ ”

             Nick narrowed his eyes in response, but shrugged his coat on and left with Davy in tow.

 

* * *

 

             It wasn’t that cold anymore. Or maybe he was just too numb to feel it. Either way, Johnny didn’t know where in the hell he was. Correction: he knew he was in an alley. He didn’t know which alley, but he was in one. How did he get there? He didn’t know that either. He remembered touching the snow. That was it. The snow. How did he get from the sidewalk to an alley by touching snow? And why was he asleep? Was he asleep? Had he just been sitting there and he had forgotten? The snow. There was something about the snow. He attempted to adjust his position, but a jolt of pain shot up his back. He quickly moved back into his former position, which caused him to bump into a box. Said box had a glass bottle on top of it and the bottle fell off, causing it to shatter on the asphalt.

             A flicker. The snow. For just a few moments, he was lying out in layers of snow, his ears ringing and the sight of his Jeep in the distance. He blinked and it was gone. He let his eyes close and his head fall back against the brick wall behind him as he silently cursed. He swallowed. The snow. His eyes flew back open. The snow. If he could remember that, then maybe...the snow. The snow, the snow, the snow.

             “Snow.” He whispered. “The snow. Don’t forget the snow. Snow. Snow. Snow. Snow.” He repeated the word over and over, determined to not let it slip from his memory. As time went on, he couldn’t remember why he needed to remember the snow, but he knew it was important. He nearly faltered when he heard the rapid beat of high heels hitting concrete, but he managed to keep it up. A few seconds later, Julia’s face appeared before him. “Julia! The-”

             “Johnny, are you alright!? We were worried sick! What happened? Are you hurt? Did something-”

             Johnny reached out for Julia’s hand, even though he couldn’t even feel the motion. “Julia. The snow. Don’t let me forget the snow.”

             “The snow? What? Guys, over here! Johnny, what do you mean?”

             “I don’t know. Just don’t let me forget the snow. I can’t remember why, but it’s important. Don’t let me forget the...the…” Johnny looked away.

             “...The snow?”

             “The snow! I was walking and I touched the snow and I ended up here! But, something’s missing. It doesn’t make sense. The snow...it’s important. Why do I need to remember the snow?” He asked himself the last question.

             “Johnny! How long have you been here?” Davy asked as he crouched down beside Julia.

             “...I left a few minutes ago. I guess. Memory’s fuzzy.” Johnny shrugged.

            Jimmy narrowed his eyes as a thought came to mind. “Johnny, when does practice start?” He questioned.

             “In...five minutes if I did my math right.”

             “We need to get him inside somewhere right now. It’s too dangerous for him to be exposed anymore. Any longer and he could get frostbite.”

             “Alright. Up and at ‘em, kid.” Davy stood and held out his hand.

             Johnny grabbed it and allowed Davy to start pulling him up, but the other man faltered when he hissed in pain. Nick rushed forward and helped Davy slowly and gently stand him up.

             “Your back?” Davy asked softly.

             Johnny simply nodded. He tried to take a step forward, but he wobbled. He felt dizzy. Was that bad?

             “I feel dizzy.” He muttered once he caught his balance.

             “House. Now.” Jimmy pointed in the direction of Johnny’s house, a stern expression hiding his worry.

             Davy and Nick slung Johnny’s arms over their shoulders and helped him to start walking.

             “Guys, I’m fine. I can walk perfectly- Woo! Okay, nevermind. I looked up and the world was spinning. That is  _ not _ good.”

 

* * *

 

             “Hey, Johnnyboy. We made you some soup.” Davy approached Johnny, who was curled up on his couch with a blanket wrapped around him and was staring out the window.

             “Thanks,” Johnny whispered, the numbness in his body slowly dissipating. He reached out and took the bowl.

             Davy smiled slightly and lightly ruffled Johnny’s hair, then walked back into the kitchen where the others were standing. He pulled out a flask and took a large gulp, then put it back in his pocket.

             “I can’t believe I didn’t see him. I went right by that alley.” Davy sighed.

             “Hey, no. I only realized he was back there because I heard him mumbling to himself. I couldn’t even see him.” Julia reached out her hand toward him. When he gave her the slightest of nods, she placed her hand lightly on his upper arm and gently rubbed the skin with her thumb.

             “What was he mumbling about?” Jimmy questioned.

             “He...He kept saying something about ‘the snow.’ He kept saying it was important, but he didn’t know why. He kept telling me not to let him forget it.”

             They stood there and thought about it, but Wayne was the only one who could think of anything. 

             “He crashed his Jeep in the winter. Do you think the snow might’ve triggered a memory?”

             “But why would he want to remember it? He’s always saying that he’s lucky that he  _ doesn’t  _ remember.” Donny asked.

             “Maybe he’s lying,” Nick suggested.

             “Maybe he is,” Johnny called from the living room. The group turned around and leaned over to look at Johnny through the opened walkway that connected the kitchen to the living room. “You guys are terrible whisperers.” He then took a long sip of his soup. “This is really good, by the way.”

             The others glanced at each other, back to him, then looked away.

             He shifted and winced at the pain in his back. He had taken his pills, but they were working  _ very  _ slowly. “I wouldn’t call it lying. I’d call it...skirting the truth. I feel lucky as all hell that I don’t remember what happened. But at the same time...I hate it. I usually don’t talk about it like this, but some people say it’s better to talk about things than to keep them in, so I might as well. I can never remember what happened. I just  _ know _ that my Jeep flipped three times and that I had to have three operations on my back. Certain things will sometimes cause me to remember small pieces, and God knows I’ve tried to put it all together, but I can never remember any of it. I can never remember the small pieces  _ happening _ , either. I just  _ know _ that they happen, because I’m always left with this...feeling afterward. Like I have an invisible string tied around my finger, or like there’s a stoplight ahead and I  _ know _ it’s there, but I can’t see it through the fog. I feel it now.” As he talked, the group joined him in the living room.

             “The snow,” Julia whispered.

             “What? What about the snow?”

             “It’s...nothing.”

             “No. Julia, did I say something about the snow?”

             “Johnny-”

             “A shell hit your Jeep and you flipped three times. You were flung from the vehicle and you landed in the snow.” Wayne explained.

             “I think there’s a notepad beside my bed. Can you write that down for me? Please?”

             Wayne hesitated, then nodded and headed in search of Johnny’s bedroom.

             “Bits and pieces.” Johnny shrugged, then turned to look out the window again. “I dream about it, too. I always wake up sweating and in pain when I dream about it. I try to write about it, but I always forget most of it by the time I get my hands on a pen and some paper. Bits and pieces. Even if I could get it all down, I’d never remember it. I’d just  _ know _ it, just like everything else.” He shrugged again, almost as if implying that it wasn’t a big deal. And, in a way, it wasn’t. Not to him, anyway. He didn’t like it, of course, but it was his daily experience. It wasn’t anything big.

             To the other guys, however, it was a big deal. They all remembered their struggles, and as nice as forgetting them sounded, none of them could imagine what it felt like to just  _ not _ remember it. Forgetting simple things like names and days of the week were one thing, but forgetting something as important as his experience was something else.

             To Julia, it was also a big deal. She hadn’t gone through what the guys had and she knew that, but she did struggle. As much as she wanted to be who she was before the war, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to forget her struggle...to forget her happiness with Michael...to forget Michael.

 

* * *

 

             Wayne didn’t mean to pry. It wasn’t like he could exactly  _ avoid _ the scribbled notes on the notepad since they were just lying there for the world to see. Still, though, he felt a bit...wrong as his eyes glanced over the short, desperate pieces of memories. A lot of it matched up with what happened, as far as he could tell. However, he knew that he only had the picture of the puzzle, while Johnny had all of the pieces. The few notes he couldn’t align with his knowledge of the accident report could have been extra information that they didn’t deem necessary to include.

             What worried him the most was the pages that were ripped out. He could see indentations of phrases such as “why can’t I remember” and “help” on the empty pages. He frowned as he folded the first page back softly and wrote over the indentations.

             He hated that his former best friend had to deal with that. He frowned as he thought of the word “former.” They didn’t have a falling out or anything, it was just difficult to keep in contact during the war, and when he got back, all Johnny could remember was that he looked familiar. It kind of hurt to know that Johnny didn’t remember all of their shenanigans from high school (or, rather  _ Johnny’s _ shenanigans; Wayne didn’t participate), but he knew it was out of Johnny’s control.

             Wayne placed the pen back on the bedside table and smoothed the front page of the notepad down. His reminiscing could wait.

 

* * *

 

             The medication had finally kicked in. Johnny sighed in content as he felt himself drift off from both the effects of the pills and from the comforting hand rubbing soft circles on his shoulder blade. He didn’t know if it belonged to Julia or one of the guys, but he honestly didn’t care. He was just glad it was there. A small smile fell upon his face as-

             His eyes shot open.

             “ _ Guys. _ ” He muttered suddenly, his speech slightly slurred.

             “Yeah?” Davy answered.

             “We’re missing practice.” 


End file.
